


all our pieces fall (right into place)

by phloridas



Series: first christmases through the years [3]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Christmas, M/M, Sickfic, because i just got over the flu myself and felt the need to write one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 08:01:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13072614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phloridas/pseuds/phloridas
Summary: "But...aren’t they already sharing this home? Maybe it’s not what Phil dreamed a couple years ago, but dreams grow and change with the people that hold them. Two lives are twisting and curving into each other to become one. Isn’t that far more than Phil could ask for?"Or, Dan and Phil’s first Christmas in the Manchester apartment (and the first BBC Christmas radio show).





	all our pieces fall (right into place)

“Dan? Dan, hey, everything alright today?” Judging by the mountain of tissues overflowing the tiny bin, Phil knows the answer even if he hopes he’s wrong.

“Take a guess, Phil.” The hacking cough Dan lets out as he sets down his 3DS hurts Phil’s lungs.

“Want me to grab some medicine on my way home from Christmas shopping? Anything specific you need?”  _ Home. _ It’s been four months now but the word still tastes sweeter than his mum’s mince pies.

“Just...just whatever, as long as it’s not too expensive. Thank you, Phil. I love you. So, so much.”

“I love how soft you get when you’re sick.” Phil crouches down beside the black headboard and presses a kiss just above Dan’s ear. His fringe has gone a bit wavy at the front today. Phil knows it’s because he hasn’t showered yet but damn if it doesn’t look extra adorable on him. “I just wish you could come into town with me today. I love seeing your reactions to all the Christmas displays.”

“Take pictures of the best ones, maybe? I’m sorry,” Dan croaks. Phil wants to reach right in and snatch whatever makes his face scrunch up in that horrible way when Dan takes a tiny sip from the blue plastic cup on his nightstand.

“Absolutely. You’re sure you’ll be alright here? Text me if you need anything?”

“Yes,”  _ honk _ , “mother. Me and Arceus should be fine, thanks.”

Phil’s no stranger to this gaunt look, the pale face, the even darker circles lining Dan’s eyes. With all the public transportation they take, not to mention Dan’s horrendous sleep schedule, this is bound to happen at least once a season. That doesn’t ease the pain for a second, though.

He loops an arm around Dan’s chest, slipping the other under his back in a kind of awkward half-hug but it’s okay because Dan’s so warm and squishy today. An echo of his mum plays somewhere in the back of his mind, but Phil shoos it away with a kiss to Dan’s cool forehead. He’d take twelve of these flus for Dan any day.

At least he’s awake and doing something--something he enjoys, no less. That’s certainly better than Phil’s initial fear.

 

\--

Of course, Manchester City Centre is just as grey and barren as Phil expects. He still snaps a couple of the Topman mannequins (and some questionable festive undergarments), along with the lights on the wheel that gradually grow more illuminated by the setting sun. It sure isn’t easy to keep himself from buying out the entire drugstore but Phil manages, if only to avoid the strange look from the cashier. (How is he supposed to know Dan won’t come down with a fever tomorrow? Should he get some tummy settlers just in case? Why didn’t they think to buy this stuff when they moved in?)

“Dan? How are things looking now? Still poundy up here?” Armloads of bags fall to Dan’s floor as Phil taps a gentle rhythm in the center of Dan’s oily forehead, Phil’s cheeks still stinging from the rapid temperature shift. His voice is low, a reaction to the droopy eyes and blankets pulled up to Dan’s chin.

“Yeah, a bit. Tell me you ended up buying “Santa’s sack”, though. I need a good laugh today.”

“Sorry, babe. Wasn’t about to have the clerk think I’m a stripper. I did get your magic pills, though! Or, I hope they’re magic anyway.”

Dan mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like, “Well, what are you good for anyway?” Phil would smack him if he wasn’t in this sorry state. As it is, he dumps a near-overflowing plastic bag over the teal bedsheets, sending boxes and bottles rolling and rattling everywhere. Some nudge up against Dan’s legs while others fall to the floor, all as Dan surveys the scene with half-raised eyebrows before rolling onto his other side.

“I thought I told you not to waste your money! Phiiillll!”

“Dan. Shush, save your voice for the BBC promo tomorrow. And hey, even if you don’t use some of these now, I know we’ll need them for later. It’s useful. It  _ is! _ ” Dan’s appraising look more closely resembles puppy dog eyes at this point. Why this makes Phil giggle until his tongue pokes out he has no idea, but the gentle quirk of Dan’s lips fills him with a joy all the festivity in the world couldn’t come close to touching.

“Okay, Danny. Open wide for Dr. Philly!” Phil’s cracked open a bottle of vitamins now, poking at Dan’s cheek and nose and chin, each new target trickling another giggle from Phil’s lips. Dan just snatches the gummy and shoves it in his mouth, his eyes all defiance but Phil can see the dimple just dying to poke through. It disappears as soon as Dan swallows, though, his scrunchy face tearing open a gaping hole in Phil’s chest. There’s got to be something for his throat here somewhere, not to mention all the other flu symptoms…

“There’s just a couple more things here. You think you can do that? I got some crackers too, I know how much they help.” Phil dives down to a Tesco bag, cracking open a box of saltines and tearing the first packet with enough fervor to drop half the stack onto the bed.

“Oh my god, Phil. This isn’t life or death, you know. It won’t kill me to wait a minute.”

“But I wanted to have everything ready, and--and--oh, whatever. Just take them.” Phil drops a couple tiny red and white pills into Dan’s hand, closing his fingers around them before passing over a fallen cracker and Dan’s quickly depleting cup of water. Dan slams everything back with a trembling wrist that Phil wants to grab but something holds him back.

(Why? It’s not like there’s any cameras around. Phil’s being ridiculous...isn’t he?)

Something creaks from far away. It doesn’t scare either of them, though. In fact, it drapes a ribbon of peace across Phil, a gentle reminder of his childhood home--and the home he hopes to share with Dan one day.

But...aren’t they already sharing this home? Maybe it’s not what Phil dreamed a couple years ago, but dreams grow and change with the people that hold them. Mornings aren’t for three hour breakfasts anymore, and afternoons and evenings aren’t for exploring each other and the city of Manchester. They’re settling into a (sort of) routine, busting their asses on sponsorships to make this YouTube thing work out. Dan’s often holed out in his room while Phil prefers the lounge but they always find their way to each other by the end of the day. Two lives are twisting and curving into each other to become one. And isn’t that far more than Phil could ask for?

“Hey, you wanna chill out here while I pick a Ghibli film for us to watch? It’ll just be on your laptop, you don’t have to get up or anything, promise.”

“Ghibli sounds wonderful. Thank you, Phil. And don’t forget to take off your coat while you’re at it.”

Phil takes Dan’s hand in both of his own and squeezes, offering his brightest smile and channeling his healthiest energies. Between that and the medicine, something’s got to work.

He returns a few minutes later with a steaming bowl of soup, a piping hot green tea, and  _ Spirited Away _ all on a wooden tray he can’t believe they actually have. Dan’s coughing again, away from Phil at least but it doesn’t scratch his heart any less. He burrows beneath the sheets, nudging Dan with his left hip when the coughing subsides to get more space on the bed. Dan moves a little too far, though, leaving Phil’s entire left side icy. So he gathers both Dan and his ancient laptop in his arms, refusing to relinquish hold for even a second as Dan squirms against him.

Before they even reach the title screen, Dan’s eyes have already begun to droop, and soft snores bubble against Phil’s shoulder. With every rattling breath, Phil squeezes just a little harder, channeling every healing power he can think of. Dan shouldn’t have to add this battle to all his others. But if he has to fight it, you can bet Phil will be at his side every step of the way. Really, it’s the least he could do for the best person in the entire world.

(If you were to ask Phil the next day how Dan recovered enough to present himself for the BBC promo, Phil would snatch every bit of credit. Dan just thanked the medicine, but Phil knew better. His grandma had to pass down more than just her psychic powers, after all.)

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr/Twitter: @phloridas (come say hi!)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and don’t forget to check back tomorrow for part four if you’re enjoying this series! Happy holidays! <33
> 
> Title comes from So It Goes... by Taylor Swift. I know it's not _technically_ the lyric, but I much prefer “all” to “and” anyway. Also, are any of you really surprised at this point? Lmao


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